A Hypothetical Catastrophe
by AnnD
Summary: An ill-advised, completely hypothetical, alcohol-induced mistake between Sam and Jo. Most likely set between 2x03 and 2x04. I do not support this ship. My imagination simply got away from me.


**A/N ~ This is an experiment of sorts: testing the limit I can push myself to write a fic about a pairing I am vehemently against. It is also the only situation where I can see Sam being an ass and me being okay with it. I know many think a Jo/Sam fling is canon, but in my world it absolutely is not. As far as I'm concerned, all the season 2 Sam/Andy moments could not have happened if at any point there was Sam/Jo, regardless of how heartbroken or drunk he was. That said, I hope you enjoy! M rating for suggestive themes and language, but no lemons.  
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**I really don't own Rookie Blue. I'm sure if I did I'd have better things to do than write fanfic (and that would make me sad).**

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He stayed laying on his side away from her even as he felt the bed dip. She had returned with coffee, already having set a cup on the table beside him.

"You gonna keep pretending you're asleep or are we going to handle this like adults?"

"There's nothing adult about using meaningless sex to fix our problems so ya, for arguments sake let's say I'm asleep." he snaps.

"Meaningless sex.." she returns (more for the sake of hearing it aloud again than asking a question or making an accusation).

He laughs morosely "What? You saying it wasn't? Life-changing and beautiful_,_ that what it was to you?"

"Not in the least"

Clearing his throat he sits up and faces her, "Look, I'm not trying to be a jackass but last night did the job, was a great way to momentarily forget, but it doesn't change the way I feel about her and I doubt it changes the way you feel about him."

"It doesn't. But it also doesn't make them any less engaged to each other." she bites out cruelly.

"Was that really necessary" he deadpans as he slowly grazes his hand up her naked thigh.

She's slightly startled by his touch. She had assumed that after the liquid courage (or stupidity) had worn off he'd be apologetic, maybe even feeling guilty; she hadn't expected grumpy and horny. "Is this?" eyebrows raised in the direction of his hand on her leg.

"It is now..." his voice husky and muffled as he trails soft, teasing kisses down her neck only to be halted by her resistant hand against his chest

"Whoa – is this how you're going to deal with your shit now? Huh? Hope that I'm around for you to feel up or fuck whenever you're insecure and lonely, or maybe it's not just me – you screwing Peck too? I can see that." she blew up at him, progressively getting louder as her frustration bubbled. "You know, using sex as an escape is no better than your incessant pouting."

"I do not pout" he said sounding enough like a bratty child for it to be a contradiction, while not bothering to dignify her other remarks with responses.

"Well you aren't as god damn stoic as you think. The only person who doesn't notice or understand your pouting is McNa-"

"Would you stop it!" He cut her off, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"What? Talking about her? You LOVE her! You're IN LOVE with Andy and you can't even face it enough to hear her name? God, you're pathetic."

"Yeah, I do! I love her and she's marrying Luke." he spits his name like it tastes bad "And don't you dare act like you're handling that any better than I am. You've got your own ways – you follow him around like a puppy, hanging off his every word, shooting Andy death glares you think no one notices. You're so obvious it's a wonder my supposed pouting gets through to anyone!"

As he's barking at her his hand resumes running up and down her thigh. By the time he's finished speaking they are glaring, daring the other to say something – at this point any insults apply to them equally, and they know it.

As his dark eyes bore into hers he subconsciously lets his hand sweep up to rest on her hip, pulling her a closer.

She opens her mouth as if to speak, her eyes indicating she's ready to respond in kind to his harshness, then closes it. Then, as if something dons on her she snaps "How dare you compare the two of us! What Luke and I had was real and maybe I fucked that up but at least it existed! Unlike your non-relationship of angst and flirting at least what I'm lusting after is a possibility. Any supposed feelings she has for you may be nothing more than the result of wishful thinking!" sensing she's hit a nerve, she tries to back off – with the intent of grabbing the housecoat on the floor and stomping off to the bathroom.

That, uh... doesn't happen. In fact not only is the bathrobe untouched, she barely manages to move an inch as he roughly pulls her to him, closing the distance between them. "Your right. Maybe she never wanted me. And maybe I do pout. And maybe I'll be miserable forever because the woman I love is marrying a man she shouldn't. But right now that doesn't matter."

His voice gruff and his face inches from her own, she can't understand how it simultaneously intimidates her and turns her on...

"Right now..." he clears his throat "right now I'm going to fuck you." he pauses, and though she'd never admit to it, her breath hitched and her stomach fluttered at his words but she tries to remain expressionless as he continues, his voice steady: "Because that's just about the only reprieve from facing how I really feel and I know you understand that... I know you want it too. Maybe even more than you did last night."

Memories of the night before flicker through her mind coupling with his warm body pressed against hers and his previous statement lingering: her composure begins to slip. Her response is an unladylike whimper as he presses her into the mattress, one hand grazing her side, just below her breast, the other working up her inner thigh.

He grins coldly, smug satisfaction laced with self deprecation: "that's what I thought".

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**Reviews would be great. Fic bashing is discouraged, but Sam/Jo bashing is more than welcome!**


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